So callous where my mind stays
But it's not my state of mind
I'm not as ugly sad as you
Or am I origami
Folded up and just pretend
Demented as the motives in your head
– from Inside Outby Eve 6

Tuesday – Gym was the worst… thing… ever. At least in Sam's opinion, it was, anyway… assigned outfits forcing students into school spirit, psychical activity numbing the brain and making the limbs ache, perfect cheerleaders and sporty girls always proving just how much better then you they are and then making fun of you about it, fiercely lesbian coach watching your ass for an hour (as if there weren't enough guys on campus to do that), and just all around good times… well, at least it was the last period of her day.

Sam stumbled into the girls' locker room, oddly enough being the last one in there… Infact; by the time she reached her locker in the back of the room only about three or four other girls were left…

Now, most of the students that had Gym with her were, oddly enough, popular… she figured it was probably some sort of cruel and unusual punishment towards her and Stokely for being weirdos… no matter, right? It didn't even occur to her then… the other girls leaving so quickly, whispering and giggling rather then their usual shouting and giggling, none of it occurred to her at that moment; though she'd regret it later.

She turned her head as she finished spinning the combination on her lock for her first attempt of the day, to see Stokely leave… she was all alone now… but she didn't think about it; she just wanted to get out of the moronic uniform the school made them ware during Gym… gray school T-shirts and black short shorts.

She gave the body of the lock a sharp tug; but it didn't budge. Damnit It was going to be a pain again today… it got stuck almost every single day, and usually took a number of times to get open. She gave it another spin and another pull, but still nothing. Cursing under hr breath she gave it another spin, but jumped and sent it flying off in the wrong direction as she heard a noise behind her.

She saw a blob of shadows on the wall, and whatever made the shadows was coming closer, passing by rows and rows of crimson lockers… and before long the shadows took shape, and their possessors appeared, three jocks… she quickly identified them as Gabe Santora, Tye Malloy, and Sparky…

She narrowed her eyes and kept them trained on Tye and Gabe… both of them were horrible to Casey, both aiming to make his life a living hell, but only one of which had fallen victim to her so far… though she'd heard about Gabe through Casey… very little, though. Just that he was not a nice guy… but what was Stan doing with them?

"Hello Sparky," she said calmly, and leaned against her locker, crossing her arms over her chest. She regarded the other two with only a cold stare. "You know, you're not supposed to be in here…"

"Oh, we got our place," said Tye. "Don't you worry…"

"Think of it as a pass," Gabe smirked as if he'd said something totally witty.

"I'm sure," Sam rolled her eyes.

"Good," said Tye. He was now standing a step in front of the lockers on the opposite side of hers. Gabe stood right next to those lockers and Stan stood next to him, positioned so that she could see each of them at the same time.

"… Look, this has been fun, but–" she was turning around to go tell Ms. Cecelia, who was still out in the Gym, when Tye grabbed her wrist, whirled her around by it, and smacked her back against her own wall of lockers. "Tye, what the fuck are you doing!" her tone grew dangerous now.

He let go of her wrist but stood his ground, and she jerked it back to her side. "Pulling a thorn out of my side," his voice was full of malice but his eyes were full of pleasure… and she didn't know what had happened but he had punched her in the stomach, causing the air to escape her lungs and pain to envelope that area. She leaned down to clutch it and he slammed his elbow into her back.

She fell to her knees, but he kicked her in the stomach again… then someone kicked her in the eye, which was, lucky for her, closed at the time… and she slumped to the ground on her side, just trying to protect her face with her hands and her stomach with her knees from the blows that were now coming one after the other in a one-sided melee, really unable to do much of either…

Casey shifted the strap of his bag from one shoulder to the other; waiting uncomfortably by the steps for Sam… he had the oddest feeling, the most unsettling feelings, that something was wrong, in the very pit of his belly.

He looked at his wristwatch. The bus would be here at any minutes; where was she? He argued within himself for a moment before he decided he was going to go look for her… something wasn't right, he just knew it. He didn't know how he knew it but he did. He turned to head back inside the building but saw Stokely exiting at that very moment… she had the same last period class with Sam!

"Stokely," he stopped her, jogging up the stairs to where she stood at the door. "What took you so long?"

"I stopped to get a book from the library," Stokely arched a brow. "Not that it's any of your goddamned business…"

"Where's Sam?"

"Locker room, last I saw her…" Stokely looked to her side as some jock shouted an insulting and perverted comment at her. She flipped him off and then looked back at Casey as though nothing had happened. "… Why? You haven't seen her?"

Casey shook his head. "I'm gonna go look for her…"

"Whatever," muttered Stokely, and she began walking again heading down the path in front of the school.

Casey sighed and went back inside the building, deciding the check the Gym first, because that was the last place she'd been seen, and that was where detectives always looked, so why not him?

It took him a minutes to get there because he almost ran into Tye and Gabe on the way; but Casey, eventually, found the Gym was empty, save for Ms. Cecelia, who said the same thing… locker room last she saw.

He went over and waited by the door for a minute, but no one came out, and he realized the bus was probably right outside at that very moment, so he made the rash (for him, anyway) decision to actually enter the girls' locker room… besides… something could be seriously wrong!

He opened the door, slowly, hesitantly… "Sam?" he called through the amount he'd opened, which was just about enough for him to stick his head through. "Sam?"

He heard a slight noise only about three rows of lockers a head of him… what was that? "Sam?" he called again, hopefully. There was a soft noise, even quieter then before, but still, a noise… a noise responding to her name.

He took a deep breath, not really wanting to do this, feeling that it was wrong, somehow, but doing it anyway, he opened the door fully and began to step inside, but halted suddenly and decided he'd better give a warning first. "I'm coming in…"

No answer. He took another step inside… then another, and closed the door behind him. The florescent lights were dim in here, but it wasn't that bad… cleaner then the guys' locker room… but still, much of the same… and they make it sound so much more important, too…

"Sam?" he called again… another small noise, like something softly colliding with one of the metal lockers. He stepped in it's direction, coming past the first row of lockers… the second… he was on the bend of the third, now. "Sam?" another soft clump… it was right on the other side of these lockers, now, seeming the sound of something soft (maybe plastic?) touching against the metal of the fourth row of lockers.

He swallowed hard and began to creep around the last row, making a little bit of noise so that who ever was there could hear him… he crept around, and forced his eyes to peer at the front of the fourth row of lockers… and gasped.

There, lying on the ground, before the fourth row of lockers, both legs bent at the knees but not for the same amount, hair covering her face, arms crossed in an X over her stomach and chest, was the crumbled body, he immediately recognized.

"Sam!" he cried, shock and fear filling his senses. He rushed forward and dropped to his knees in front of her. At first he realized he didn't know what to do, but quickly reacted by doing anything that popped into his head, and the first thing he thought to do was move the hair out of her face.

He tucked the locks behind her ear and let out a low moan when he saw her face… there was a dark blue bruise, a black eye, forming around her left eyes, the eyes that was not on the side against the ground, and there was a small, long cut around the bottom/outer edge… dark red blood seeping and blurring around the injury… and, he didn't know if it was blood smeared up from her cracked and bloody lips of if her nose was bleeding… and there were dark bluish purple bruises forming on her legs, and when he pried her arms out of their death grip around herself to see, her belly, too… but only a couple on her arms… she was a mess… a beaten and bruised mess.

"… I'd like to go to the nurse now," she whispered, in a soft, hoarse voice, after a while that he had inspected her. He looked back up at her, and in his eyes and his face it was clear to see that he was stunned by the whole situation.

"Of c-course," he stuttered, and began to try and think of a way to help her to her feet without hurting her, and as he did this she proceed in helping herself to her feet, and once she was there he jumped up and wrapped an arm around her waist… she didn't really need the help, but he wanted to give it… he needed to give it.

He slowly brought her through the maze of halls and corners and twists and turns of Harrington High until they found themselves before the door with Nurse Harper's name etched on it.

Nurse Harper shot one glance at the doorway before blurting out, "What it is now, Casey?" then she seemed to realize that it wasn't Casey alone, and turned to look again. "Oh… my…" and she hurried over and took the small frame of the teenage girl from him, leading her deeper into the nurse's office.

"… Put an ice pack on your eye as soon as you get home or it will swell up to the size of a pumpkin," Nurse Harper was advising Sam. She took a step back and sighed. "So… do you know who beat you up?"

Casey opened his mouth to suggest that it was probably Tye and Gabe, seeing as they both hated Sam and he'd seen them walking through the halls, happy about something, shortly before he found her, but Sam quickly cut him off.

"–No," she lied. "I mean, I didn't know them… him…"

Casey looked at Sam, baffled – why did she lie? – and helpless – he knew that if neither one of them told Gabe and Tye would probably get away with it but he also knew that if he told, knowing that Sam didn't want him to, she would be definitely be cross with him… "You ride the bus, right?"

Casey nodded at the same time as Sam. He'd been answering half the questions for her! He just didn't know how he should act… this was all his fault… he knew it was all his fault… he hadn't had a moment to sit down and wallow in it yet, but it was bellow his conscious, poking needles upwards through his skin every once and a while.

"Well the last bus left a long time ago," Nurse Harper said as she walked a crossed the room and pulled a large book out of a drawer. "I'll call your parents; they'll have to come and pick you up–"

"No!" Sam blurted out so quickly Nurse Harper jerked around like a gun had gone off. "I mean… don't call them… they're not home, anyway… and they wouldn't want to be bothered at work… it's okay, okay? I can just… walk or something."

"No," Casey said, looking up at Sam with those big blue eyes, wide and concern. "I take the bus, too… my parents can come and pick us both up."

Sam shrugged. "You sure?"

Casey nodded, and Nurse Harper gestured him over towards the phone. He took it, punched in the number, and then waited… "Hi, Dad, it's me," he began suddenly, as was the sudden answering of the phone on the other end. "Yeah… no… no, nothing's happened. Well, not to me, anyway… yes… I know… I need a ride home, okay? And I've got a friend, they needs a ride, too, if you could just come pick us up… Uhuh… I'll explain it all when you get here, okay? Thanks Dad… bye."

Casey hung up the phone and then turned back to the Nurse and Sam. "He's coming…"

"Good," said Nurse Harper. "Casey, go with Sam back to the locker room so she can change back into her clothes before they get here, alright?"

Casey nodded, and walked over to where Sam was seated. She stood up and followed him out of the room, back to where they'd started…

Fifteen minutes later, Casey would find himself on the steps in front of the school, sitting beside Sam. The day was bright with a spotless blue sky but there was a chilly breeze blowing down from the North/West.

He looked to his right at Sam… she looked so small, like a child's doll, with her arms hugging her legs to her body, resting her head with her closed eyes against her knees, long tangles of hair shielding her from the light. She had dressed that day in a baggy-ish, heathered, dark blue, long-sleeved shirt that hung almost, maybe less then, halfway down her hips and had sleeves to her first knuckles with a worn, ash gray short-sleeved top under it… both shirts had wide collars; the gray's just enough to be called decent, the blue's barely on her shoulders… with ripped up jeans and her favored boots. The outfit kind of made her look like a rag doll… at least, he thought so, anyway.

"Hey," he whispered, starring at her worriedly. "You alright?"

She nodded her head a couple times, hard to be sure he could see them, but never looked up.

He paused. "… Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"Why didn't you tell Nurse Harper about Tye?"

"Because I'm not a snitch," she grunted, and said no more.

He sighed and looked back at the small parking lot beside the school, waiting… Soon, his parents' car pulled up into it and his mother and father emerged. Casey stood as they came trotting down the walk, and nudged Sam whispering to her the suggestion of standing, as his parents were only a few yards away.

Sam stood up and brushed her skirt off, but hesitated to look up when she was finished, so instead she watched them with eyes raised and chin lowered … but the Connors' had eyes; they could see anyway… they could see the injuries… and they seemed to startle Mrs. Connor, and (for lack of a better word) repulse Mr. Connor.

"Um, Mom, Dad," Casey drew their attention to him. "T-this is Samantha Warren… Sam, this is my Mom and Dad."

"Hello," Mrs. Connor chirped, smiling and trying to sound cheerful… but she was very translucent… even a total idiot could see right through her.

"Hi," Sam groaned.

"Well," Mr. Connor ended a short period of silence. "Where do you live, Sam?" In a low and quiet voice, she told them the address. Mr. Connor faked a smile and said: "… Well, that's only two blocks away from our house."

Mrs. Connor nodded with another one of her transparent smiles. Casey frowned and attempted to look on the bright side: at least his mother was trying to fake it… but Sam wasn't going to buy it… would she be hurt? He hoped not.

"C-can we go?" we asked quietly, not to be rude.

"Oh, yeah," his father replied quickly. "Sure."

… And, just a few minutes later, they'd all be piled in the car… his parents in the front seat and him and Sam in the back. He couldn't stop shooting glances over at her, looking at her every few minutes, trying to think of something he could say or do.

She had the side of her head rested against the window with her eyes closed, but she wasn't asleep… he knew that feeling… it was a feeling where you don't really understand anything, but you do know that you really, really want a nap… it happens, sometimes, when you get hit in the head… he'd been there before.

A time or two or so, she'd looked back at him with half opened eyes, tired green eyes, and gave him little reassuring smiles, trying to make him think everything was already, that it wasn't his fault, that she'd be fine and everything could be forgotten… but he didn't believe that. He couldn't believe that. This was his fault… this was her taking his fate… taking his fate for him. He'd never wanted that. Of all the things in the world if he could stop one from ever happening ever it would be that someone else should have to go through what he goes through, what was called "his fate".

… And his parents… his parents, up there, thinking they couldn't see or wouldn't notice… exchanging worried glances every few minutes, glances that spoke a secret code of parental guardians… but most kids caught on to that code, knew what they meant… and he knew those secret glances, those codes were worried about him, not about her… a little bit, yes, about how she'd run into having something like that be done to her… but more for him… for what could happen to him? What could happen to him if he hung out with people like that? They had no idea… and there'd be a long talk.

They'd want to talk as soon as they got home. They'd want to know every little thing he knew… and, of course, he could never tell them… but they'd want to know exactly what happened, every detail, and they'd bombard him with questions… and it would only be then that the real horror would sink in. It would only be then that he'd realize what had happened in full, and the guilt and feelings like that would finally come into the pictures… but he wasn't feeling them just yet.

No, he wasn't feeling them now… now none of that mattered; now it was only Sam. Of course, it was there. The guilt and horror and feelings like that were all there, but they were just beyond him, filling his subconscious mind… and when his parents would ask him those questions; it would force past the barrier like water breaking through a dam, flooding the steady stream ahead, and washing through his entire body like a village, filling his sense like drowning the peasants…

But for now, there was only Sam… only her and his feelings for her… only worry and the bond of friendship… even as the car slowed, and his father quietly informed Sam that this was her stop, opening her eyes fully for the first time since Casey had found her on the floor of the girls' locker room… even as she sat up, pushed the door open like a child, pulled her bag back onto one arm, and dragged herself outside of the car.

"Thanks Mr. Connor, thanks Mrs. Connor," and then she looked at him and smiled small. "Thank you Casey… I'll see you tomorrow, 'kay?"

He nodded, and she shut the door… his parents waited and watched her, as did he, until she was safely inside the house, and then there was an aftermath, and his mind felt empty and blank, and they drove the two blocks back to his house in silence… the calm before the storm.

-- I know, I know, I made it sound like their plan was going to be all wicked and mysterious and then it turns out to be just this… but, hey, look at it this way: they're a couple of jocks with a G.P.A of D… how much better do you really think they could do? Exactly. Also, thanks to all my reviewers! You guys are so great! I'm very glad you're enjoying this--